Under the Emerald Spell Light
by Islander2
Summary: The students. . . the Death Eaters. . . the teachers. . . the Dark Lord himself. . . Hogwarts castle is under attack. Barricaded in the library, a couple has one last talk before the end. Oneshot. ArgusIrma


A/N: I'm back again, to those of you (if any) who actually follow my career of one-shots. This story is much different from my others in the fact that it's much more angsty and dark. Please note the Mature rating—this story is rather violent. I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: If I said I was J. K. Rowling, would you actually believe me?

Under the Emerald Spell Light 

Another _bang_ rocked the castle, shaking dust from the ceiling of the library. The moonlight that shone through the window alcoves was mingled with the sickly emerald glow of the Death Eaters' spells. Both illuminated the cold room, revealing a couple that stood by the door, shaking with fear.

The witch waved her wand with a trembling hand, and a library shelf slid across the floor before toppling against the door with a crash. She whimpered as the books showered to the floor.

"Now, now, Irma," the man whispered, putting a comforting arm around the witch. "They can be replaced; they are just books, after all."

"But they also are my life," Irma Pince replied tremulously, ducking out from under his embrace to bend over to the barricade and gather a pile of heavy spellbooks in her arms. Laying them carefully on the table, she turned back to the survey the rows of library shelves piled against the door. "I was never good at spellwork," she stated sadly. "You won't believe how much trouble I had finding a job before I came to Hogwarts—I consistently mangled every task anyone ever gave me. But Dumbledore offered me a job here, where I could work among what I love best."

"Books," the man supplied for her with a chuckle far removed from his normal sneering wheeze. "Yes, I also owe Dumbledore more than I can ever repay him. I would not have found a job, either, me being the useless Squib I am."

"You're not useless, Argus," Irma insisted, pulling him into a close embrace, where she shivered against him. "You've kept the castle clean for years. And who else could deal with terrors like the Marauders and the Weasley twins?"

Argus Filch snorted in dislike at the memories of Hogwarts' epic troublemakers. "Huh, they're bad enough by themselves—try dealing with another three hundred repulsives that are just like them!"

"It must be nearly as bad as having to repair all the damage they inflict upon the library books!" Irma said, half-indignant at her own trials and half-supportive of the man she had grown to love over the past year.

Another bang rocked the castle from kitchens to astronomy tower. The light from the curses flared briefly, drowning out the radiance of the moon. A sharp mewling cut through the air right at Argus's ankles. He bent down immediately to lift a ragged tawny cat in his arms. "Mrs. Norris!" he said softly, gently pressing himself into her fur. "Thought I had forgotten you, my sweet? I was so worried about you! Where have you been?"

Mrs. Norris simply mewled some more and let out a sharp hiss. "I know, Mrs. Norris," Argus crooned softly to the cat. "It's the Death Eaters; they've invaded the castle."

Irma let out a sob at this last statement. "We never even had time to prepare," she said softly, tears spilling from her eyes and down her cheeks. "It's been barely three months since—since Dumbledore's death. The wards he set up around the castle collapsed. We were hopelessly at a disadvantage, even before the attack began."

Filch remained quiet, outwardly calm, but inwardly writhing in fear and despair. He had lived in this castle for forty years, cleaning the corridors and punishing miscreants. Everyone he had known outside Hogwarts had died years ago—this was now his only life. And it was coming to an end.

"The students. . ." Irma whispered, her voice breaking. "I saw—I saw before we barricaded ourselves in here. I saw them die. Colin and Dennis Creevey were struck down fighting in the Great Hall. Susan Bones, Euan Abercrombie, and Demelza Robins died when they tried to keep the Death Eaters from entering the castle. Neville Longbottom was hit by an _Avada Kedavra _aimed at Luna Lovegood—she herself died moments later. Hermione Granger and Ginny and Ron Weasley were all three killed by You-Know-Who himself. And so many other—too many to name. . ."

Irma's sobs echoed through the dark grayness of the empty room. Filch lay Mrs. Norris on the librarian's desk so he could hug her again. She wept into his shoulder, her tears staining his torn coat. "Those students were nuisances," she cried. "They gave me so much pain and trouble for so many years. . . But they never deserved this. They never deserved such a violent end, and with no one to protect them—all the staff are dead except us."

Argus didn't say anything, but he agreed with Irma. He had hated the Hogwarts students his entire life, and had constantly wished dire misfortunes upon the greater troublemakers. But now that he had seen them die, now that their blood had splashed across his body, he no longer felt the same way. With a sudden jolt, he realized that it wasn't just the castle he would miss—he was also unwilling to let go of the students in it.

Irma turned her tear-stained face up at the Squib before her. "Is it true, Argus. . .?" she whispered. "Did—did you really see. . .? Is it _true_?"

He nodded slowly and sadly. "Yes, Irma," he said softly, his eyes filled with sorrow. "I saw it with my own eyes—You-Know-Who himself struck down Harry Potter in the middle of the Great Hall. His spell tore the boy's body in two."

The librarian's tears flowed afresh as she let out another moan of anguish. "The Chosen One, dead? He returned to Hogwarts to protect us, but he did so in vain. Do you really think he was the only person able to kill You-Know-Who?"

Argus shook his head slowly. "I don't know," he said. "Many have taken that to be the truth. But I do not want to believe it—I cannot begin to imagine the world under the dominion of the Dark Lord."

"But it seems like things are headed that way," Irma replied. "The Ministry is in disarray; it will not hold out even a day against You-Know-Who's army."

_BANG!_ A loud scream echoed down the corridor right by the library. Irma flinched, and Mrs. Norris jumped from the desk onto her master's left shoulder.

"Irma," Argus said urgently, "we don't have much time left to live. You know we can't stand against them. I can't cast a single spell, and we are certain to be outnumber by at least ten to one. But I cannot let you go without you knowing. . ."

He took a deep, shaky breath. Another crash sounded directly outside the door, but he began speaking as though he didn't hear it. "We've been together for barely four months," he said. "If I had worked up the nerve earlier, we could have already spent years together. But it no longer matters now. What matters is that your are the first person I have ever loved. Before you came, Mrs. Norris was the only living being I cherished. I was a lonely man; I despaired of ever finding a woman who could look past my outward appearance and find the man who I truly was inside. But you have—you showed me what love truly is, and for that I am forever indebted to you."

Tears wound down Irma's cheeks as she replied, "And you, too, are the first man I have ever loved. You looked past my obsessive love for books and found the woman inside me that longed for a man to love her back. For that, your debt to me is paid in full."

"I love you," Argus whispered, his voice hoarse. "Merlin, how I love you!" He pulled her into a fierce, passionate kiss. For a heavenly minute their lips worked furiously against each other, both pouring all their love and passion and connecting as they never had before. Argus's heart soared. For a moment there was no one in the world but Irma, and the love she felt for him. He even forgot the battle that raged on the other side of the library door.

Until the barricade of shelves flew apart with a tremendous crash. A brilliant red light blasted from the doorway, and flames licked up the bookshelves, consuming the heavy volumes that lay around them. Irma screamed as splinters showered her and Argus. Mrs. Norris yowled sharply, digging her claws into Filch's shoulder.

Through the wreckage of the doorway stepped several hooded Death Eaters, framed by flash of green spell light in the corridor behind them. One of them laughed mockingly at the sight of the librarian and the Squib. He pulled off his mask to reveal the a sneering face and a length of blond hair belonging to none other than Lucius Malfoy.

"Pince, isn't it?" he said softly, the amusement in his voice evident. "The irritable librarian. How well I remember you; more than once did your spelled books beat me sharply over the head for mishandling them. I haven't forgotten; and I hope you haven't forgotten, either—what goes around, comes around."

Irma whimpered in fear as Lucius and the Death Eaters around him laughed harshly. Argus hugged the librarian closer to his body, his heart beating fiercely against her pale cheek.

"And Filch!" Lucius said in delight. "The talentless Squib, the worthless disgrace to the Wizarding World. Oh, how I will enjoy this!" He raised his wand lazily and said, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

An invisible entity whipped through the air, as if on wings, and an emerald streak of light seared through the library, illuminating the hooded Death Eaters and the last living couple in Hogwarts. The spell hit Mrs. Norris straight in the heart. She yowled, then fell silent as the life drained from her soft body. Her face froze as she fell from her master's shoulder to the floor and impaled herself on the shards of a broken shelf. Her heart, beating only seconds before, tore in two as the spike pierced her stomach. The cat's blood spurted from her body and splashed against Argus's legs, then pooled around her in a dark crimson liquid illuminated only by the sickening green glow pouring in through the windows.

"NOOOOO!" he shouted in horror as he broke away from Irma's embrace. He fell beside his lifelong companion, tears streaming down her cheeks. He pulled himself laboriously through her warm blood and held his cat's broken body in his arms. She had been his only joy in life for so long, and now she had to go—so suddenly, and so violently. . .

Lucius and the Death Eaters' laughter howled in the library, echoing off the walls and filling Argus's ears. For a moment there was no other sound except for their cruel enjoyment. Then they grew quiet.

"You hope to avenge the death of your beloved cat?" Lucius said mockingly. "I daresay you might—if only you were able to use a wand." He laughed again. Argus stood up slowly, still sobbing. Irma gathered him in her arms and hugged him. Together they both cried, their tears mingling with the blood that splattered their clothing.

"I'm sorry, Argus," Irma whispered, condoling. "I'm so, so sorry. . ."

Argus held Irma close to her. He would be with her until the very end. He could never let go of the only woman who ever loved him; and he wouldn't let her go in death.

Then it happened. Lucius nodded to one of his cronies. The hooded man stepped forward, his wand drawn, and shouted, "_Reducto!_"

The spell hit Irma squarely in the back. Her chest exploded, drowning Argus's front in her blood and insides. He screamed in shock and horror as his dearest love fell limp in his arms, her eyes open wide as she breathed her last. "I love you," she choked out, crimson spilling from her lips. "I love you. . ."

"IRMA!" Argus cried in anguish. "No, not you, too! You can't leave me. . . I love you!" Never had he experienced so much pain in life. No loss had he felt more keenly than this. Never had he shed more tears than when Irma's blood spilled forth onto his coat, which now clung, drenched, to his heaving chest. "Wait for me, Irma," he whispered brokenly. "Wait for me; I'm coming, too."

He let her body slip to the floor, his heart crying out in anguish as he gazed one last time at the two bodies that lay before him—the bodies of the only two living beings he ever loved.

Silence had fallen over the room. The man who had killed Irma had torn off his mask. His face was grinning in insane pleasure; his wand was still raised. Argus stepped purposefully toward him, his footfalls splashing quietly in the blood that spilled from the two bodies beneath him.

Then he lunged at the man. Snatching the Death Eater's wand from his hand, Argus shoved the shaft of wood straight down the man's throat. A violent shower of sparks shot from the man's wand, incinerating his windpipe and frying his lungs. Steaming blood and fluids flowed from the man's mouth and onto Argus's hand, causing the Squib's flesh to boil. But he didn't even feel the pain. As Irma's killer fell to the ground, he felt a savage pleasure. He had avenged her death, and now the Death Eaters would kill him as well. The two of them—the librarian and the Squib—would be together forever.

The Death Eaters advanced furiously forward, their wands raised. However, before any of them could cast a single spell, Lucius yelled, "STOP! Don't touch him!"

The Death Eaters froze and looked at their leader, confusion etched on their faces. Lucius surveyed Argus, who stood before him, his chest heaving. A slow smile spread across the Death Eater's face as he said, "So you _have_ managed to avenge your true love." He spat out the last two words as if they were a foul curse. "How brave. I admire bravery, you know. I admire it so much that I will let you live."

Argus's insides seemed to disappear at these words. He couldn't keep on living, not after he lost everything! No, he had to rejoin Irma! He wanted to shriek at Lucius, to curse at him. But he seemed to have lost his voice along with his insides.

Lucius grinned even wider, as if he was reading his mind. "Don't worry, Filch," he said lazily. "I'm sure the shards of wood in this room will work just as well as any sword." Then to his Death Eaters he said, "Come—we must search the rest of the castle."

And they left Argus all alone. The man gasped in horror and pain, clutching at his heart. Around him the library lay in ruins. The green light of curses and red firelight surrounded him. His life had crashed in around him—everything he held dear had left him. _And I, too, must now leave this life_, he told himself.

He knelt down beside his cat, his rough hands running gently through her fur one last time before he grasped the stake that ran through her. He pulled the wickedly sharp shard of wood carefully from her broken body. Then, linking one arm in Irma's and the other arm around his dead cat, he raised the double-edged spiked of wood to his head as one last flash of emerald spell light illuminated his tragic form. . .

**The End**

A/N: To those of you who have read my other stories: I know this one is very different. I hope that you liked it just as much, even though it was a whole lot more despairing. If you didn't like it, I'm truly sorry. I haven't given up on my animal fics (no way I'd do that!), and I have quite a few more of those coming. Just be patient.

To those of you who haven't read my other stories: Please do! They are called "Woes of a Midget Owl" (a Hedwig x Pigwidgeon romance) and "Buckbeak's Ferret Dinner" (a one-shot portraying a grieving Buckbeak after Sirius's death). Please review! I answer every review you send me.

As a final note: This Argus/Irma pairing, while unusual, is actually canon—it hints at it a little bit in the sixth book, and I just had to write it down! Stick around, I might put up a new story soon!

PLEASE REVIEW! I have over 150 reads for this story, and barely a review! All my other stories haven't even hit 100 reads, but they already have 3 or 4 reviews each! Thank you.


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